Quick, Amanda by Reckless

Author:Reckless [Reckless]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-07-24T02:19:40.361000+00:00

"Excellent," Clarington said. He patted her shoulder. "Excellent. Well, then. That's that, eh? No offense,

my dear, but I'm rather glad you're Wylde's problem now."

"And he is definitely my problem." Phoebe retied her bonnet strings. "I must be off, Papa. Thank you for

telling me what you know of the truth about the situation with Neil."

Clarington was alarmed. "See here, now, I told you the whole truth, not just bits and pieces."

"Good-bye, Papa." Phoebe paused at the door. "Oh, by the way, I am planning a wonderful house party

at Devil's Mist at the end of the Season. I am anxious for you and Mama and everyone else to see my

new home."

"We shall certainly be there," Clarington assured her swiftly. He hesitated. "Phoebe, you won't give

Wylde any unnecessary trouble, will you? He's a good man, but I don't know how patient he'll be if you

make life difficult for him. He's accustomed to issuing orders and having them obeyed. Give him time to

get used to your ways."

"Do not concern yourself, Papa. I would not dream of giving Wylde any unnecessary trouble." Only the

absolutely necessary amount, she added silently.

Phoebe was still mulling over the conversation in her father's study later that day when she alighted from

the carriage in front of Green's Bookshop. George, the footman who had accompanied her on the

shopping expedition, held the door open for her and her maid.

Phoebe glanced across the street as she was handed down from the vehicle. A small man in a green cap

was watching her intently. When he saw her look at him, he jerked his eyes away from her and

pretended to study the contents of a shop window.

"Betsy, do you know that man?" Phoebe asked as they started up the steps of the bookshop.

Betsy glanced at the small man and shook her head. "No, ma'am. Is somethirt' wrong?"

"I don't know," Phoebe said. "But I am almost certain I saw him earlier when we came out of the

milliner's. I had the feeling he was watching me."

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Betsy frowned. "Shall I tell George to run him off?"

Phoebe eyed the little man thoughtfully. "No, let's just wait and see if he is still about when we come out

of Green's."

Phoebe went on up the steps and into the bookshop. She forgot all about the mysterious little man as

Mr. Green came forward to greet her. The elderly bookshop owner was smiling in satisfaction.

"Welcome, welcome, Lady Wylde. I am delighted you have come so quickly. As I said in my note, I

have the volume you requested."

"The precise copy?"

"I am certain of it. You may examine it at once."

"Wherever did you find it?" Phoebe asked.

"Through a contact in Yorkshire. Wait here and I shall fetch it."

Mr. Green disappeared into his back room and reappeared a moment later with an old volume bound in

red Moroccan leather. Phoebe opened the book carefully and read the inscription on the flyleaf:

To my son Gabriel, on the occasion of his tenth birthday, in the hope that he will live by the honorable

code of chivalry all of his life.

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